


Bumper Cars

by awordful



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awordful/pseuds/awordful
Summary: They were always crashing into each other but then there were moments when they stood still... a look into my favorite Owen/Cristina momentsmigrating from fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12790255/1/Bumper-Cars
Relationships: Meredith Grey/Derek Shepherd, Owen Hunt/Cristina Yang
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Ceiling Fan

**Author's Note:**

> Song Recommendation: Fly Down by Stephen

Cristina groaned as her alarm went off for the third time. She was tempted to press snooze but she forced her legs out of the warm covers and slammed her hand over the off button. She glared up at the ceiling and the now bladeless ceiling fan. She could not describe what possessed her to take her fan apart. It was not like Owen was here. What did it matter if the fan has blades or not? It made no difference to her. 

_One day he’ll come back_

She knew that part of that statement hinged on her letting him come back. For the first week apart, he was cold and ignored her as much as possible. He was ashamed and scared. Cristina discovered that he was seeing a therapist when one of the psych nurses let it slip. But the silence ended with ‘take care now’. They weren’t the exact words but she knew after that day that he loved her. And it was cruel. No- torture, for the universe to force their lives to collide then rip them apart. 

_How’s it going with your shrink?_

She still cared. And it killed her to still care. She tried not to let the dying teenager’s voice infiltrate her head. Dana and Owen were not the same person. And Dana died, so it wasn’t like their story was perfect and Cristina and Owen’s was definitely not. Yet, when she felt his hand sliding down her arm, trying to comfort despite the callouses and the war wounds… She wanted to fall back into him. Would it be so wrong? But she had to hold herself up. She refused to be hurt again. She refused to ever see his face crumble like it did after the choking.

But he was just so damn irresistible especially when he was being a trauma badass and saving little children. It had been so long without his touch and she was dying to reach up and feel the scruff that used to leave delicious burns on her skin. She had snuck down to the pit today to see him, even though she had not been on his service since the incident. She observed him casually leaning against the ER nurses station, instructing the residents in the pit today. She wanted him. Damnit.

_He’s got issues._

Meredith didn’t have to tell her twice. Cristina knew intimately about his issues. The man had not contacted his mom in all the time he’s been back. He seemed to think it was because he needed to go back. She wanted to scream at him for being such a reckless heroic idiot. But she couldn’t. What place did she have to tell him what he needed? She saw him. He was not okay. He was scared. But he was also passionate and true despite all of these things weighing down on him. 

_See me._

She met his eyes and for a second time stopped. “I don’t want you to die.” She shuddered at her own honesty but played it off as the cold wind’s fault. 

“Come with me.” 

And she couldn’t refuse.

She climbed into his blue pickup truck like she did for so many days when they were together. She filled the silence with his Jimmy Hendrix CDs. 

* * *

_Who is this?_

Owen’s mother was a kind woman. Her silver hair suited her pale complexion and blue eyes. Cristina introduced herself and it didn’t help that Owen’s eyes were the exact same blue.

“Cristina Yang. I work with Owen at Seattle Grace.”

Cristina’s mother smiled and welcomed her in. The house was small and cluttered with picture frames and magazines, but the house struck Cristina as having more warmth than her california mansion. In the living room, Owen’s mother took her place in a fading arm chair while Cristina and Owen sat on either side of the matching couch. The set up felt oddly like couple’s therapy. There was a permanent dip in the middle of the couch, no doubt from Mrs. Hunt sitting in that spot so many nights to watch television. Owen and Cristina found themselves sliding into the center of the couch and had to adjust themselves so they remained at a respectful distance. 

Cristina felt uncomfortable watching Owen’s mother break down at his stories of the before. The loss of his team. The choking. She excused herself to the restroom and lingered in the long hallway. The walls were filled with pictures of Owen, and presumably his sister, when he was young. She found herself smiling at the six year old Owen decked out in his baseball uniform, then the thirteen Owen looking bored in a family wedding photo. There were pictures of his father here and there, but they seemed to drop out as Owen got older. The last photo on the wall was Owen in his army uniform next to his sister who was also wearing an army uniform. There were less lines on his face. He was smiling boyishly at the camera with his arm slung lazily over his sister’s shoulders. She had not seen that smile except for the moments when she would roll on top of him in the morning and smile suggestively. Or that moment when he left her sitting on the exam table after kissing her. It was strange to see him so free. 

It was a couple of hours and a full dinner later that Owen and Cristina finally left Evelyne's home. 

“You’re always welcome here, Cristina.” Evelyne said kindly before embracing Cristina again. They were about the same height but because of Evelyne’s slight hunch, Cristina had to bend her knees to properly accept the hug. She inhaled the woman’s old woman perfume and tried to smile. She was not used to this kind of maternal treatment and she never was one for hugging. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Hunt. It was great to meet you.” Cristina replied. 

“Thank _you_ , dear. Thank you for being there for Owen.” Evelyne said squeezing her shoulder. 

When they broke apart, she met eyes with Owen who was looking at her softly. She melted under that look. She found herself taking his hand as they walked out and enjoying his touch. 

The drive to Cristina’s apartment was silent. She was exhausted and tomorrow she had the early shift. She practiced her rounds in her head until Owen broke the silence. 

“Do you need me to pick you up tomorrow or-”

“No. I’ll get a ride with Callie” said Cristina carefully. She watched his face fall a little. She turned her gaze forward and watched the car pull up outside her apartment building. There were a thousand things she probably should have said in that moment. But all of them either sounded like things he didn’t deserve to hear or things he already knew. 

Turning towards him she said- “I’m glad you saw your mom.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m glad-I’m glad I got to meet her.” Cristina continued watching his face. “Owen-”

She was cut off. His lips were on hers and she had actually forgotten how good a kisser he was. She found herself responding despite her better sense. And she almost lets those three words slip out. The break apart and Cristina lets her hand rest on his cheek while his hand caressed the back of her neck. 

“I want to move forward.” He whispered moving his eyes up to meet hers. She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know how to. She had no answers. This was too much. He pulled himself back into his seat then unlocked the door. She stepped out onto the street, face still flushed from his kiss. She tried to smile in spite of herself and waved goodbye to him. 

_I love him._

She thought helplessly to herself. 

* * *

The next day she spent most of her time with Izzie who was now in the thick of her IL2 treatments and was puking every hour since the wedding. Alex stayed with her for as long as he could but Izzie urged him to get back to his rounds. He was on Hunt’s service today.

“So. You and Hunt.” Izzie said as soon as he left the room.

“Huh?” Cristina said playing dumb. 

“I may be in this bed all day but I saw the way you looked at him. And as someone who has a few months to live. Don’t wait, Cristina. Love as much as you can.”

Cristina flipped through the magazine irritably pretending to ignore Izzie. 

“Do you need to puke again?” she asked abruptly. 

“You’re not listening, Cristina!”

“Nothing's that easy.” she stood up abruptly. She pushed past Alex who was coming back with a pudding cup for Izzie. She didn’t stop to say hi. She was so damn tired of Meredith telling her how bad Owen was for her and Izzie telling her to throw herself in anyways. 

She wandered down to the pit hoping that there was some bloody carnage from a car accident or maybe a stabbing for her to distract herself with. She spotted Owen and O’Malley shaking hands then hugging. Her brow furrowed in confusion. What was that about?

He was walking towards her. There was a spring in his step and a smile breaking across his face. The boyish arrogant badass smile that made her weak at the knees. She started forward but decided to wait for him to come to her. 

“I slept!” he said triumphantly. 

She barely processed the words that came after. Because could it be true? Could he be better? 

_I can be a better man with you._

He hadn’t begged or said ‘I don’t need you’ before kissing her. He was confident and energized. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she found her heart racing at the thought a future with Owen. A real shot. Could it be true?

* * *

“I’m getting married.” Meredith had said to her. Meredith Grey who couldn’t be in a relationship even if her life depended on it. She had gotten better. “I think it’s important to tell the people you love, you love them while they can _hear_ you.” Meredith said emphatically. Little did she know how much the words resonated with Cristina. 

She barely knew Owen. What if Owen were in Izzie’s position. Would he know her? Would he know how much she cared for him? Loved him? That just as well could be Owen in the room next door, who ran in front of a bus to save a woman. He would do something crazy stupid like that. And she would never get to speak to him again. That made her more afraid than she had been in a very long time. 

She checked the OR board. He was in surgery but he should be done soon. They used to meet in the vent when they were done with surgery and kiss as the hot air lifted their post surgery high. She decided she would wait for him. 

_I… love…you. Me, Cristina Yang._

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that statement. Never with Burke had she said I love you like this. What was it about Owen that made her do a complete 180 on everything she wanted? And she didn’t want to change. She didn’t want to give up things for him. But he was not even asking. Cristina wanted to give him everything and that scared her. 

_I don’t want to-I can’t_ breathe _without you._

And as soon as it was out of her mouth she realized that, that was just it. She could not breathe without him. The thought of him going back to Iraq, and leaving her nearly brought her to her knees. 

_We can do this Cristina. All you have to do is meet me halfway._

It seemed like such a simple request, but for Cristina, halfway was through a storm of other issues. And they weren’t Owen’s to deal with. They were her’s. Could it really be as easy as saying yes?

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. The World Was Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were always crashing into each other but then there were moments when they stood still... a look into my favorite Owen/Cristina moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Song For This Chapter: Medicine by Broods

Cristina’s body still shook with fear even though it had been hours since the shooter was removed from the hospital. She was huddled next to Meredith by Derek’s bedside. She watched her hands shake in her lap. She always had steady hands. It was what made her a brilliant surgeon. Yet for the life of her, she could not imagine ever picking up a scalpel again. Meredith had her arms wrapped around Cristina’s torso and would squeeze from time to time. The two women did not talk. Cristina could not help but think of Owen, who probably had no one by his bed as he recovered. Teddy was at Seattle Pres monitoring her heart patient. Owen’s mother was still an hour out if she even knew what had happened. 

Teddy and Owen got out. They were in surgery when it started but they somehow escaped with their patient still alive. Owen came back. Cristina had been so mad at him earlier that day. Furious. Cristina knew what she wanted. She wanted Owen. She loved him and he always pretended like she didn’t. So she spelled it out for him and watch his indecisiveness play out on his face. It defeated her. His hesitation, his doubt, his denial made her sick to her stomach. So she removed herself from the equation. No matter how much she loved him she could not let herself become undone. 

_But he came back._

The world had gone grey all except the one detail she couldn’t figure out. Why did Owen come back? Was it just foolish heroism? The world was grey and this was the last thing she was holding onto. She was being dignified and keeping herself at a distance. Not too long ago she had broken up with him. But once a shooter comes through the door, dignity goes out the window.

 _That is the woman I love. You touch her, and I will kill you!_

Had he meant it? Or was he just being overdramatic?

Meredith started to snore against Cristina’s neck. She slowly pried her friend off her as gently as possible and laid Meredith’s head on her side on the couch. She looked down at Meredith’s stomach. The stomach that once held a child in it. Medically speaking, the miscarriage was due to stress and the mother’s “hostile uterus” but on another level- the baby was just another victim of the shooter. Cristina glanced at Derek’s stats to make sure everything was holding steady. The old Cristina might have been gloating or punching the air. She had pulled off a cardio surgery entirely on her own and saved the beloved surgeon. It was a miracle. 

Jackson Avery peeked his head in. Cristina nearly jumped out of her skin at his sudden appearance. She tried to mask it as a hair flip, but Jackson still looked apologetic. 

“How is he?” whispered Avery.

“He’s doing fine.” Cristina said quietly. They both watched the heart monitor jump up and down. She could feel Jackson about to speak. Probably to compliment her or comfort her. Either way. She didn’t want it. 

She beat him to it: “Jackson, thank you. I could not have done it without you. I’m serious. I couldn’t have-I could barely think straight” she felt herself start to shake. In a corner of her mind, she was still there. Frozen over Derek’s body with the smooth gun pressed to her temple. She wrenched her mind to the present. 

“Nah. It was all you, Yang.” Jackson said soothingly. He tentatively wrapped an arm around Cristina, and she returned the gesture halfheartedly. This man was not Owen. But he saved her life and she owed him forever. 

“I think you’ve earned the right to call me Cristina. If you want.” Cristina said pulling back. 

Jackson smiled. 

Cristina stepped out of the room, leaving Jackson to monitor Derek. She knew where Owen was. She overheard April telling a nurse to send painkillers down to him in the trauma recovery wing a bit ago. She walked down slowly and deliberately, acutely aware of her heartbeat hammering inside her chest. She could hear her breathing and it sounded like a hurricane. Everywhere she walked, she imagined the shooter waiting. Lurking behind a corner. 

_He’s gone. He’s not here._

She reminded herself of this reality the whole way down to the trauma wing, repeating it like a mantra. She stopped outside his door. She had no idea where they stood. Just hours ago she was breaking up with him. But the next thing she knows he’s back and taking a bullet to save everyone including her. How can she make rational decisions when he keeps being a damn hero all the time?

He stirred and found her in the doorway.

“Cristina?” he croaked.

She approached his bedside slowly and watched his vitals beep monotonously.

“You’re okay.” she said to no one in particular.

“It was through and through. Kepner and Grey did a good job.”

Cristina said nothing. 

“Cristina.”

“What?” she sighed. 

He just looked at her, eyes searching her face for signs of pain, which were everywhere. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. You were so-so brave. I can’t imagine what-I don’t want to imagine it. I love you. I love _you._ ” He sounded so sure. He tried to use his far hand to reach her and he winced. 

“You’re on a lot of pain medication.” said Cristina dumbly. 

“ _I love you._ I can’t- _I won’t_ live without you.”

He was being dramatic. And if this was any other day she would have teased him even though she loved the corniness. But his words worked on her aching soul and she wanted tell him to stop. She felt tears leak out of the corner of her eye. 

“Cristina.” he moaned. “Please. I’m trying to say… Cristina.”

She walked around to the other side of the bed and took his hand. It was real and warm and there. She looked at him. 

“You came back.”

“I came back _for you_.”

He exhaled as his eyes closed. They stayed like that. Him squeezing her hand. She had so many things she wanted to say to him, yell at him, scream at him, but the only thing that came out was- 

“I still love you.” she said quietly. She was not even sure if it was actually her saying it. But Owen was here. He was her anchor, keeping her from drifting away. 

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Maybe Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were always crashing into each other but then there were moments when they stood still... a look into my favorite Owen/Cristina moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Song For This Chapter: Heal by Tom Odell

“Do you really want to marry me?” 

It was two in the morning. Owen had just slipped under the covers from his night shift, trying not to wake Cristina. 

She had taken the day off after her incident in the OR yesterday. She felt like a battered barbie doll. A toy filled with stuffing. The shadows in the apartment tormented her all day, confining her to the bed. All day she let her mind work on wedding plans, as it was the only thing that distracted her from the flashbacks. She knew the wedding would be small. She would not be wearing white. But she would walk down the aisle. She would listen to the scripted vows. She would get married. And all day she wondered how she would do any of those things while trapped in her bed. How would she stay present long enough to say “I do”. How long would Owen stick around until he realized he no longer loved this woman. 

“Do you really want to marry me?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Owen responded turning to face Cristina. She hugged her knees closer into her chest. She felt so tiny.

“I don’t know.” Cristina said defensively. “Nevermind. Go to sleep.” She groaned rolling over. She was tired. She was dull. She did not feel like Cristina Yang, who Owen had wanted to marry. 

“Cristina… what is this?” Owen tried again. She heard the sleep in his voice as he fought to stay awake. Her eyes burned with shame. 

“I just- I want to know why.” Cristina mumbled. 

“Why does anyone marry anyone, Cristina.” Owen sighed. 

“I don’t know.” Cristina rolled to the other side to face Owen again. “I don’t know why anyone would want to marry  _ me _ .”

Owen turned his head to look at her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You can’t be serious.”

Cristina huffed. “I’m not a cardio god anymore.” It hurt to say it out loud. But it was true. She lost the magic. “I’m not anything.” She felt the weight of that statement press down on her. It suffocated her. 

Owen did not respond at first. He turned his head back to the ceiling. Cristina thought he may have fallen asleep. She felt a strong urge to wrap her arms around him, her body, her whole self. He was warm even on the other side of the bed. He was real. She resisted touching him for fear that he may disappear if she did. She looked past his head and the shadows mocked her. 

“Do you want to marry me?” Owen asked. He turned completely on his side. The dim light coming from the street lamps outside made his hair look golden. She focused in on him. He opened his mouth to speak again but stopped when the apartment door opened up and a tired Callie stumbled inside. He waited until they heard the door click signaling that Callie was out of earshot. 

“I know when I asked you- you were scared of being alone. I don’t want you to marry me because you’re afraid. Yes, getting married is scary. It is for me, too. But I need this to be real, Cristina.”

“I am afraid.” Cristina admitted. She watched his face line with hurt. “But you’re the only thing I’m not afraid of anymore. And I think that’s scarier.”

He reached out a hand and encased her cheek in his palm. She scooted closer to his touch but kept her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. They did not speak for awhile. Both of them weighed the other’s admission. Why were they getting married? Maybe this was just a huge disaster waiting to happen. 

_ Maybe it’s my salvation.  _

Except the idea that marriage would save her scared Cristina more than anything else before. It was not just the trauma of her previous almost-marriage that caused the reaction. But the idea that Cristina Yang- someone who never came off as the marrying type would ever ever ever consider marriage as salvation. 

_ I want to be simple. _

She did not change herself. It was one of her rules. But the shooting, the PTSD, it was changing her without her permission. And now here was an open door. Maybe her only chance to find happiness, even though it may be in a tired artificial institution. One could become two. Husband and Wife. That would be Owen and Cristina. She took a deep breath. She felt her lungs inflate and then collapse in her ribs. She felt her heartbeat struggle in her chest. 

_ I want to be simple. _

“So-” whispered Owen “what do we do?”

Cristina tried to analyze the options like she did for anything ever in her life. 

_ What do we do? _

She was wasting away before her very eyes, helpless to her own pain. But she could choose this. She could do something. She felt her need for him down to her bones. 

She loosened her grip around her legs and let them straighten onto the bed. The were sore from being held together for so long. She reached over onto her nightstand and picked up the ring. When she first received it she barely even looked at it. When she took it off before work yesterday, she noticed that it was the engagement ring Owen’s mother had once worn. Cristina was not one for jewelry, but the ring seemed perfect. It was smaller than the one Burke had given her. More humble and warm. A small round diamond sat in the center wrapped in gold which snaked all the way around and split into two at the other side. It looked like a stethoscope. She picked it up now and jammed it on her left ring finger. And looked at Owen. 

“Cristina… ” Owen started out, his eyes wide. 

“I’m saying I want to… if you want to. I choose this.”

Owen grinned from ear to ear. She sighed. 

“Are you going to ask me?” he teased. 

“Do you really want to marry me?” Cristina repeated her question from earlier.

“Don’t say it like that” Owen chuckled. 

“Ugh.” Cristina flopped her legs and arms open dramatically. She flipped over on top of Owen’s chest looking up at him. “Owen Hunt, will you marry me?” 

Owen chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Even though I’m a nutcase?” Cristina said seriously.

“Yes."

“Even though I’m a defective surgeon?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I have a break down and make us move to a deserted island?”

“Yes.” Owen said smiling. “Cristina-”

She cut him off. She kissed him with everything she still had left in her. He was laughing and she could feel the vibrations through his entire body. 

* * *

Thanks for reading!


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